"Benvindo, Eekee!"

Millions of Latin Americans last week saw the President of the U.S., arms flung wide in greeting, flower petals stuck to his pink and sweating scalp, a delighted grin on his face, as he rode down stately boulevards, through exotic cities, among multitudes of strange people. And somehow, whenever he made contact with the people, Dwight Eisenhower's radiant personality touched the Latinos, and the millions cheered. In the warmth of the uproarious welcome for the norteamericano President, old animosities and old suspicions melted perceptibly.

These were the same Latinos whose envy of their prosperous northern cousins has festered for a century, who bitterly recall the bygone days of Yanqui imperialism, and who just as bitterly accuse the U.S. of neglecting them and leaving them to their own destiny. As he moved through South America last week, President Eisenhower heard some pointed talk about Latin American aspirations and the need for U.S. aid, and he countered with some pointed observations of his own--about the peril of tyranny by subversion and the necessity of helping one's self. All the frank talk, the cheers and the sensation of renewed friendship left no doubt that Ike's remarkable sally into personal diplomacy was having the same telling effect in Latin America that it had in the lands of Europe, North Africa and Asia.

Seven Vivas. Eisenhower's arrival in Brazil almost turned into a slapstick comedy worthy of the Marx brothers. When the big presidential jet, Air Force One, set down at the airport of the unfinished capital city of Brasilia, a ground crew began unrolling a huge red carpet, miscalculated the distance and arrived at the ramp of the plane with a dismaying roll left over. For a moment it looked as though the President of the U.S. might have to hurdle the carpet before he set foot on Brazilian soil, but an enterprising MATS ground crewman saved the situation by quickly cutting off the extra roll with his pocketknife, tucking the ragged edge under the ramp.

The arrival was further complicated by Brazilian President Juscelino Kubitschek, who had received a false report that Ike's plane would be delayed. Kubitschek made a breathless appearance 14 minutes after the Air Force One had landed, and not until then did Ike emerge from his plane, but with complete decorum and a friendly pat ("I understand perfectly") for Kubitschek.

In Brasilia the two Presidents issued a platitude-clouded statement reaffirming hemispheric solidarity, then flew down to Rio and a picture-book welcome. At Galeao Airport, the peripatetic President boarded a white-hulled launch for the ceremonial trip across the beautiful harbor to the city. As his launch passed a line of 14 freshly painted naval vessels,* the crews raised their white caps high and gave a traditional Brazilian navy greeting--seven "Vivas." An informal flotilla of small craft trailed in Ike's wake, a swarm of helicopters chop-chopped overhead, and along the seawall a long formation of white-uniformed sailors and officers stood under the blooming mimosa trees, at rigid attention.

750,000 Cariocas. Stepping nimbly ashore, Ike joined President Kubitschek in an open White House Lincoln (flown from Washington for the occasion). Together the two Presidents rode through a wild, carnival-mood welcome by 750,000 happy cariocas. "Benvindo, Eekee! [Welcome, Ike!]" was heard everywhere. The warm summer air was filled with flower petals and ticker tape (a trick the Brazilians learned from watching U.S. newsreels), and the Ficus trees along Rio Branco Avenue looked like maypoles under their drapery of serpentine and confetti. Music--from God Bless America to Handel's "Hallelujah" chorus, with a strong obbligato of carnival songs and sambas--rang out at every corner. Rio throbbed with happy emotion. "It was even bigger than our welcome for the Brazilian troops at the end of the war," said an awed carioca, "except that then there was lots of crying." Said Ike: "The most impressive entrance to a city I've ever had."

After lunch and a brief rest at the U.S. embassy, Ike drove to the Brazilian Congress to deliver an eloquent and forceful address that was interrupted by 27 bursts of applause, three standing ovations. Brazil's mutual-assistance plan for Latin American development--Operation

Pan America--got his warm endorsement and a reminder that the U.S. is doing its part. Touching on the subject closest to his heart--world peace--President Eisenhower brought the Deputies to their feet with a thunderclap of applause. "War is now utterly preposterous," he said. "In nearly every generation the fields of earth have been stained with blood. Now, war would not yield blood--only a great emptiness for the combatants and the threat of death from the skies for all who inhabit the earth. To strive ceaselessly, honestly and effectively for peace is today the responsibility of every statesman--of yours, of ours, of all countries."

The Right to Choose. Ike's final point was a promise of continued nonintervention, along with an oblique reference to Cuba and all nations that accept "the fatalistic concept of the omnipotent state and the omnipotent fate." Said he: "You of Brazil and we of my country do not say that this philosophy shall not be held: that peoples may not return to that unenlightened system of tyranny, if they wish. We would feel a great sorrow for them, but we would respect their right to choose such a system. Here is the key to our policy--the right to choose."

But, he added solemnly, "we would consider it intervention in the internal affairs of an American state if any power, whether by invasion, coercion or subversion, succeeded in denying freedom of choice to the people of any of our sister republics."

In his reply that night, President Kubitschek also rejected the immediate possibility of war: "I feel that your visit to

Brazil coincides with the end of an era and the beginning of new days of struggle for the world. This struggle does not lie any more under the spell of an imminent war." The real problem, he said, is in the development of underprivileged nations. "I reaffirm . . . that any stagnated area of the world is an area potentially in the hands of the enemy . . . The struggle for social justice takes in the present day the shape of a fight for development. Such is the theme of our time."

Unscheduled Tragedy. Eisenhower's speech had a profound effect on the Brazilians. Deputies embraced him during the crowded reception that followed, and that evening, at a state banquet in Itamarati Palace, Kubitschek shouldered his way through the guests to take Ike's hand and say in Portuguese: "I want to thank you personally for your magnificent speech. It made a tremendous impression on me and my country." Then he grinned and switched to accented English. "It was formidable," he said.

From Rio the President made a flying trip to booming Sao Paulo, where, in spite of a steady drizzle, 500,000 cheered him in the streets, waving their umbrellas and throwing soggy ticker tape on his car. At the city's war memorial, Ike had an emotional reunion with veterans of the Brazilian Expeditionary Force, who had served under his command in Italy during World War II. Returning to Rio with President Kubitschek, Ike learned for the first time of the air crash over the city's harbor that afternoon (see below). Many of the dead Navy bandsmen were old acquaintances, and Ike was visibly moved by the tragedy. The two chief executives agreed to cancel or curtail the public functions remaining on Ike's schedule, and hurried together through streets of suddenly silent cariocas to visit the three survivors of the crash in their hospital ward.

Bayonets in B.A. Because of the tragedy, Ike's departure for Argentina the next morning was subdued, but warm.

His welcome in Buenos Aires was in some contrast to Brazil's let-out friendliness. Three weeks earlier, Mexico's President Adolfo Lopez Mateos had been booed and stoned by Communists and resurgent Peronistas during an official visit, and worried Argentine President Arturo Frondizi took drastic steps to avoid a repetition of violence or discourtesy. As soon as he arrived at Buenos Aires' Ezeiza airport, Ike was surrounded by a cordon of soldiers with fixed bayonets. The scheduled parade into the city was canceled, and instead Ike was whisked to the U.S. embassy in a U.S. Marine helicopter. The morning of his arrival five bombs were exploded in Buenos Aires, and on a dark street a mob of Communists burned a straw puppet wrapped in an American flag, and shouted: "Viva Castro!" and "Death to Ike!"

Whenever he managed to break through the tight security, though, Eisenhower made a roaring hit with the Argentine public. Riding with Frondizi at a fast clip down the stately Avenue St. Martin, he insisted that the automobiles slow down, and objected when the crowd thickened and his escorts, a mounted troop of grenadiers dressed in Napoleonic uniforms, moved their horses around his car for protection. Waving the guardsmen aside, Ike greeted the dense crowds with a grin, and got a roar of welcome in return--a remarkable salute from the usually reserved Argentine public. The subdued chant of "Peron! Peron!" was drowned out by an ovation for the U.S. President.

It was the same next day at Mar del Plata (a detour carefully arranged to get Ike out of tense Buenos Aires into a more easily policed area). Along the seven-mile route from the airport into the resort town, nearly a million cheering, suntanned vacationers, many wearing bathing suits, made a happy uproar and brought a mile-wide grin to Ike's face.

At week's end President Eisenhower, visibly fatigued underneath his sun-reddened complexion, joined President Frondizi at the picturesque (and safe) resort town of Llao Llao (pronounced Zhow Zhow) in the Andes, for two days of discussion and rest. As he got ready to fly on to Santiago and Montevideo this week, Ike could almost sense the friendlier feelings his trip had created, and most Latin Americans seemed to agree with the judgment of Brazil's Kubitschek: "I am fully convinced we are now entering a new phase of understanding and cooperation with our friends and allies, the North American nation."

*Including the cruisers Almirante Baroso and Almirante Tamandare, the former U.S.S. Philadelphia and St. Louis.

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